


“Is that my shirt?”

by evakuality



Series: tumblr dialogue prompts [4]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-31 23:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18324080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: The sun has dipped below the roof line of the city and Isak can’t pretend anymore that it’s a balmy summer’s evening.  He’s shivering in his thin t-shirt as he throws their clothes around the tiny apartment trying to find his best hoodie.  He glances over at the balcony and grimaces.  The sunset he can see through the opening is gorgeous, all shimmering pinks and warm yellows, but he ignores it.  The door is thrown wide open and he knows where Even is … and that means he knows where that hoodie probably is too.





	“Is that my shirt?”

The sun has dipped below the roofline of the city and Isak can’t pretend anymore that it’s a balmy summer’s evening.  He’s shivering in his thin t-shirt as he throws their clothes around the tiny apartment trying to find his best hoodie.  He glances over at the balcony and grimaces. The sunset he can see through the opening is gorgeous, all shimmering pinks and warm yellows, but he ignores it.  The door is thrown wide open and he knows where Even is … and that means he knows where that hoodie probably is too.

“Even?  Baby?” he calls as he half heartedly throws more clothes, hoping that he’s not going to have to go out there.  The hairs on his arms are, if possible, trying to rise even higher at the thought of having to go out into the chill of the evening.

“I’m out here,” Even calls back, confirming Isak’s suspicions.  He groans, knows he has to go out there. It would be okay if he could find another hoodie to wear instead, but they’re all in the washing pile.  That’s something they’re going to have to take care of, and soon, but it doesn’t help with Isak’s current dilemma. He rolls his eyes, huffs and makes his way out to his boyfriend while trying to stop the shudders that already want to rip through him.

His irritation dissipates when he sees Even.  He’s lounging, his legs long and lean as they stretch in front of him, his eyes distant and a soft smile on his face as he looks out over the city, clearly actually enjoying the beauty of the sunset.  Isak comes to lean against him, wraps his arms around him from the back and presses a kiss to his cheek. The warmth seeping through from Even’s body recalls Isak to what he was here for. He looks down over the long expanse of his chest and squints in confusion.  Even’s not wearing the hoodie; instead he’s in a very familiar t-shirt with a Jesus on a cross.

“Is that … is that my shirt?”

Even looks down too and grins; Isak can see the way his eye crinkles at the edge and the tilt of his lip.  “Yeah? Though you technically stole it.”

Isak growls.  “I didn’t steal anything.  Eskild gave it to me.”

He slides around so he can plonk himself down into Even’s lap and shivers a little before he feels Even’s warmth surrounding him.  He sighs, humming from the pleasant feeling of those arms, the hoodie not important anymore.

“This reminds me of that first day,” he says on a happy sigh.  “You know … when you were wearing my stuff -  _ that _ stuff, actually - and we were hanging in bed just the two of us together.  It was warm with you after the cold of that bike ride.”

Even laughs, kisses his neck and makes Isak shiver again, this time from the pleasurable feeling that runs through him from the touch of those lips.  “And they say  _ I’m _ the sappy one,” Even murmurs into his neck. 

Isak scowls, competitive urge taking over.  “They don’t say that; it’s obviously me.” 

Even’s laughter is, frankly, a little insulting and Isak is about to turn and tell him so when he runs his fingers up to Isak’s jaw and the resulting flash of heat on Isak’s skin drives the idea right out of his head.  He lets Even lift his chin enough so they can kiss and is again humming his satisfaction when Even whispers.

“Mikael has a spreadsheet of which of us is sappiest and I’m winning.”

“Mikael has a spreadsheet about you and me?”

“Well … you were added later after we got together, but he’s been running it for years about all the boys.  And I’m definitely winning.”

Competitiveness rises up in Isak again and he grins.  “I’m totally going to win that.”

“Baby, you have no chance at all.  I’m the king.”

“Mmmm,” Isak says.  “I’ll give you that.  You’re definitely my king.”  He leans up again and kisses Even.  When he pulls back, Even is looking at him with a soft, affectionate look on his face.  It’s the look he always gets when Isak does something or says something that makes Even realise just how loved he is.  Isak smiles at him, kisses him again, lets his own love seep onto his face. Even’s face gets even softer and he smiles.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling Isak into him again.  “You’re amazing.”

“See,” Isak says, feeling smug.  “I’m the master at this; you’re totally not going to win.”


End file.
